and I couldn't back out without feeling the shame rise to my face-and there was Daria to consider, because she was hi " Yé ah " I . d " Yé ah watc ng me, too. e , Sal. e , O.K., sure." Sixty seconds later, I was still solvent and richer by one cat and one cage. I'd got lucky-or unlucky, depending on how you want to look at it-and rolled three fives and two fours; LudWlg rolled a combined eleven. He finished his beer in a gulp, took my hand to seal the deal, and then started toward the door. "But what do I feed it?" I called. "I mean, what does it eat?" "Eggs," he said. "It loves eggs. And meat. Raw. No kibble, forget kibble. This is the real deal, this animal, and you need to treat it right." He was at the door, looking down at the thing with what might have been wistfulness or satisfaction, I couldn't tell which, then he reached down behind the cage to un- fasten something there-a gleam of black leather-and toss it to me: it was a glove, or a gaundet, actually, as long ""\7: ' 11 h . as my arm. IOU want to wear t IS when you feed him," he said, and then he was gone. F or a long moment, I stared at the door, trying to work out what had happened, and then I looked at the regu- lars-at the expressions on their faces- and at the other customers, locals or maybe even tourists, who'd come in for a beer or a burger or the catch of the day and had all th1s strangeness thrust on them, and finally at the cage. Daria was bent beside it, cooing to the animal inside, Ludwig's eggs cradled in one hand. She was short and compact, conventionally pretty; with the round eyes and symmet- rical features of an anime heroine, her running shoes no bigger than a child's, her blond hair pulled back in a ponytail, and I'd noticed all that before, over the course of weeks of study; but now it came to me with the force of revelation. She was beautiful, a beautiful girl propped on one knee, while her shorts rode up in back and her T-shirt bunched beneath her breasts, offering this cat-my cat-the smallest comfort, as if it were a kitten sheèl found abandoned on the street. ''Jesus, what are you going to do with the thing?" Chris had come out from behind the bar and he was standing be- side me now, looking awed. .,';Yf :". ..j, ,.:;:;.,:;; ; ::; ;<i " I ,:: \hT ",- - :, ,\ , -' ' ': ::1 ' l: ä · .:- ,"..--- -.: - '-." :<=.; :::<< :t J;tV^ .<> 9 -- . =:- /*>>w, .. .. .::c*-=- .' -","'" . .......v.:-'?: ... . . .. . : ..:... ".:_.,,<<_ .... .oW";:;" .." .. t t "Hello again, and welcome to another edition of 'This Old Issue. ' " . I told him that I didn't kno That I hadn't planned on owning a wildcat, hadn't even known they existed-ser- vals, that is-until five minutes ago. "You live around here?" "Bayview Apartments." " Th ....." ey accept pets!' I'd never really given it much thought, but they did, they must have-the guy next door to me had a pair of yapping little dogs with bows in their hair, and the woman down the hall had a Do- berman that was forever scrabbling its nails on the linoleum when she came in and out with it, which she seemed to do about a hundred times a day: But this was something different. This was something that might push at the pa- rameters of the standard lease. "Yeah," I . d " I h ' nk " Sal, t 1 so. There was a single slot where the door of the cage fastened that was big enough to receive an egg without crush- ing its shell, and Daria, still cooing, rolled first one egg, then the other, through the aperture. For a moment, nothing happened. Then the cat, hunched against the mesh, shifted position ever so slighdy and took the first egg in its mouth- two teeth like hypodermics, a crunch, and then the soft frictive scrape of its tongue. Daria rose and came to me with a look of wonder. "Don't do a thing till I . get off; O.K.?" she said, and in her fervor she took hold of my arm. "I get off at . . 0 K ';)" nIne, so you Walt, . .. ""'\7 ah " I . d " s " .1 e , Sal. ure. "We can put him in the back of the storage room for now, and then, well, I guess we can use my pickup." I didn't have the leisure to reflect on how complex things had become all of a sudden, and even if I had I don't think I would have behaved any differendy. I just nodded at her, stared into her ple- nary eyes and nodded. "He's going to be all right," she said, and added, "He will," as if I'd been dis- agreeing with her. "I've got to get back to work, but you wait, O.K.? You wait right here." Chris was watching. The manager was watching. The regulars had all craned their necks and half the dinner customers, too. Daria patted down her apron, smoothed back her hair. "What did you say your name was . ....." agaln!' s o I had a cat. And a girl. We put the thing in the back of her red Toyota pickup, threw a tarp over it to keep the rain off: and drove to Vons, where I watched Daria march up and down the aisles seeking out kitty litter and the big- gest cat pan they had (we settled for a dishpan, hard blue plastic that looked all but indestructible), and then it was THE NEW YOR.KER., NOVEMBER. 10, 2003 109